Jeremy opened the door with his head held as high as he could manage, tablet underneath his arm, shirt as pressed as he could make it, and pants straighter than a razor. He walked all the way over to the sofa where his Overlord playbook awaited him. His shoes made no noise even as he unconsciously scuffed them along the floor. It didn't take long for him to get to the sofa, turn around, sit down with a soft squeak from the cushions. He gazed upon the four children at the table, opened his mouth…
...And realized that he completely forget everything he was going to say.
Panic set in, his mouth closing as quickly as he opened it. His eyes started darting around the room to hopefully find something that can work as a distraction or to get him back on track. Unfortunately, constantly living in a poor apartment like this has caused him to become desensitized to anything that would cause a normal home owner to walk out with disgust. Anything that could possibly serve as a conversation starter was either too mundane, or too much for four children to hear about. He still doesn't know why the landlord continues to check if they're still alive once a month.
At Jeremy's silence, the children give each other looks of confusion. Mary starts to giggle, either from enjoying the former Night Guard's dismay or just to fill up the silence with something. Jeremy took it as the former and knew he had to do something or he'd lose them before he even had them. There's gotta be something he can talk about!
He feels sweat start forming on his brow until a light bulb goes off in his head. Regaining his composure, Jeremy places his hands on the table. With a smile he says, "So, Adventurers...,"
All of the children's head snap towards the lone adult in the room. Their eyes are firmly set upon Jeremy's next words. He continues, "Before we begin this Grand Epic, does any have any questions?"
As he expected, four tiny arms go up at the same time. Mary is holding hers up while slightly bouncing in her seat. In contrast, everyone else is sitting tight with Ib giving Jeremy an apologetic look for Mary's actions.
Knowing this would happen, Jeremy gives Mary the go ahead. She pumps her fist while everyone else's hands go down. In a high pitched, bubbly voice she ask, "What are we doing again?"
Ib looks apologetic again, but Jeremy anticipated this. He had plenty of experience with hyperactive players who needed constant stimulation else they completely lose interest in the game. They were a difficult to handle, but Jeremy had an advantage: Mary is a child.
Jeremy indicates the table with a simple wave of his hand, "We're going to be playing a Tabletop Roleplaying Game, specifically a game called of it like a game of pretend, but with ways to make it fair for everyone and more interesting."
Ib raises her hand to talk next, Jeremy nodding to let her know she can speak. Unlike her sister, Ib's voice is much quieter and more reserved when she speaks, "Is that why you asked us to fill out these, um," she picks up the paper in front of her to look at it. She squints her eyes to see the word she's looking for, "Play...books?"
"That's right, Ib. Each of those books represents the characters you all have created and will play as for this game," Jeremy explains. Ib nods along with what he's saying.
As Mary's eyes her Playbook again, Asriel's hand comes up. Jeremy nods and the kid smiles, "These four boxes are our Stats, right? They represent how good we are at doing things like swimming and jumping?"
Jeremy smiles wider at the boy, "Correct, Asriel. Have you done something like this before?"
Asriel looks down at the ground nervously, "N-no, I just...ask Alphys about some of this stuff before I came." He's still smiling, which means Jeremy has found a kindred spirit.
The adult continues, "Like I said, Asriel is right. There are four Stats that everyone has on their Playbooks. Blood represents loyalty, passion, and ferocity, Courage is your determination, will, and drive, Grace is your cunning, finesse, and skill, Sense is your intelligence, planning, and cleverness, and Wisdom is your empathy, emotion, and worldliness. However, Asriel has a fifth Stat called Doom."
"What? Why does he get an extra one?" Mary says looking up from her paper.
Asriel explains, "Because I'm the Harbinger. Doom represents my magical abilities and connections to Fate and prophecy."
Mary cocks her head in confusion so Frisk, in his surprisingly soothing yet confident voice, says, "Basically, Asriel can do magic and see the future."
Asriel frowns sadly, "Alas such power comes at a price. I can't easily relate to anyone and can only ever form one Bond with anyone, and they can only from one Bond with me. A Harbinger's existence is not an easy one." Frisk places a hand on his step brother's shoulder in sympathy, causing the kid to perk up in his seat.
Jeremy stares at Asriel with eyes wide, "That was amazing, Asriel. I could hardly tell if you were character or not." The boy places a hand on the back of his head and laughs nervously at the praise. Jeremy turns towards Frisk, "What about you, Frisk? I think I saw you raise your hand?"
"Oh, I was just wondering how Bonds worked," the boy lifts up his Playbook and points at what he means, "You told us to leave them blank, but everything I've seen makes them out to be very important."
"Correct, Frisk," Jeremy says turning his gaze to the whole table, "And to answer that question, I am going to have to ask everyone to give me their attention as I explain what this Grand Adventure is all about.
The children turn their eyes towards Jeremy, the sound of ruffling clothes following. Jeremy takes a deep breathe summoning his best narrator voice. Then he speaks, "This is Fellowship. It is a game where the entire world is in peril. A terrible foe known as the Overlord has come to the peaceful World of Atlas. With their innumerable horde of evil creatures, they plan to destroy everything and everyone who dares to stand before them. If something isn't done, Atlas is doomed.
Jeremy goes quiet to gauge everyone's reactions. They are all watching him with rapt attention. Mary is holding Ib's hand, the two sisters sharing the feeling of dread conveyed through his words. In contrast, both Asriel and Frisk remain impassive but their eyes are ready and determined. They understand the stakes, but don't feel threatened by the task in front of them at all. /p
Jeremy continues, "However, all is not lost. Four Champions, each representing the best their race can offer, have come together to stop the Overlord before they can accomplish their horrid plot. Though they may be outnumbered, they have many things the Overlord does not. Their courage, their drive, their strong sense of right, and most importantly, the unwavering Bonds friendship between each other and the rest of Atlas. They are the only ones who can stop the Overlord. It will not be easy, but these four must rise to the challenge to save their world have eternal despair. You are these four Champions. You are the last hope Atlas has. You are The Fellowship."
Mike smiles, stepping away from the door as his pal's voice starts returns to its normal caliber. That was one of the first things Mike took away from when he last played an RPG with Jeremy; the guy knew how to throw his voice.
Mike reached into his right pants pocket and took out his lighter. He couldn't remember when he had it, where he bought it from, or even how much he paid for it. All he remembered was that he'd had the thing ever since he started the job watching those killer robots. Anything before that was blacked out by his mind. Probably something bad then, he didn't exactly have a "clean" past.
He reached into his shirt pocket with his other hand and took out a cigarette. He placed the white poison in his mouth while flicking the ignition on the lighter. As his feet hit the stairs leading down to the ground floor of the complex, the flame came alive in his palm. The edge of the cigarette was soon smoldering. He put the fire out, placed the lighter back in his pocket, and let out a large puff of smoke the moment he stepped out into the warm blue sky.
With a sigh, he reached into his left pants pocket and took out the sheet of paper with the address written on it. He brought it up to his eyes and gave it one last look to commit it to memory.
Hemlock Museum, 1398 Henderson Drive.
Mike had seen their "Help Wanted" ad in the newspaper yesterday. While they didn't put any specifics in the column, but they did say they were offering at least eight bucks an hour. Already offering more than his previous "job". A sneer crossed his face as he thought back to that….place.
Mike shook his head and started heading down the sidewalk. He and Jeremy had scouted out the root to this place already. He should be able to get back home by the time Jeremy's finished with the kids. He's doing his part, it's time for Mike to do his.
With another puff on his cigarette, Mike soon blended into the mass of people walking to and from work on the sidewalk.
And somewhere behind him, a black, suede shoe stepped onto the sidewalk in front of the apartment complex.